Johann Lamont, in full battle mode, accused the FM of dishonesty.
She was asked by presiding officer, Trisha Marwick, who runs the chamber with the ruthless efficiency of the ubiquitous hard-faced woman in the school office who counts the dinner money, to apologise.
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Johann went Tonto at Wee Eck's bravado. She claimed the SNP's economic advisers told them that an oil fund in the event of independence might require one or both of the nippy sweeties of politics - tax rises or spending cuts. The FM was getting it in stereo when Ruth Davidson started from the other side.
Anyway, they both better look out - Alex Salmond has lost two stones on the celebrity diet. Get on the phone to Slaters! This is going to be costly, that's a whole new wardrobe required. Two stones in three months? I thought his voice sounded a little more castrato than normal.
He's been on the 5:2 diet, or the celebrity diet or - brace yourself for this mental image - the bikini diet? Flapping around the kitchen counting calories and weighing his teacakes? Whatever next. What happened to the real men? The men with silver hair, wrinkles and square jaws. Real tough men, who ate what they wanted, smoked and drank and shrugged off heart disease and liver failure like a piece of fluff from their shoulder. Yer Gary Coopers, yer John Waynes. Well they all died, sadly… More importantly, what about Eck's green tartan trousers? How do they feel? Abandoned.
The bevy is the killer now and there's a new pill for that, so why bother? If you go near a doctor that's the thing they ask about. You get flustered trying to remember the last lie you told. Scotland has to be the only country in the world where you lose weight and the first question is 'what's up with you?' No compliments, just suspicion over your health. You're either sick or a weirdo for being on the Gwyneth Paltrow diet. It doesn't work - my pal's been on it for months and still looks nothing like Gwyneth.
While researching my spoof political memoir Sandy Trout: The Long Walk to Brechin I stumbled upon some uncanny parallels between Trout and New York billionaire Donnie Bump, and Salmond and Trump. Their close friendship disintegrates like one of Donnie's many marriages and ends up in the law courts. Then I thought I'd check on the situation between the two real characters. Maybe Wee Eck wants to look trim in court when he's up against the Americans. What was Trump so upset about? Apart from those 11 inconspicuous 65-storey turbines that blow golf balls around his golf course even on the calmest days? It's funny how that story has gone cold.
The idea of having a Norwegian-style oil fund sounds brilliant... maybe 40 years ago. It should be on the signs as you enter the country: 'Welcome to Scotland: We don't like to rush into things…Trams etc'.
The dust has settled on a traumatic week in politics and it's time to reflect upon and seriously analyse Michael Moore's main problem. I think his head was too big. It's a massive head, way too big for his body. No wonder he always looked tired, carrying that noggin around with him all day. I have two words that will cheer up the big man - book deal.
Along with the reshuffle there's been an unparalleled level of nauseating hypocrisy spewing across the political ether. People being sacked and writing bum-clenching diatribes of greatness about the people who've just bombed them out? Go read the letters from John Randall and Chloe Smith.
The floods of hypocrisy continued when Sir Menzies Campbell announced his intention to quit politics at the 2015 general election. Sir Walter Menzies Campbell, CH CBE QC MP. A former Olympian and one-time 100m UK record holder who became leader of his party. The plaudits praised his great knowledge, forensic mind and described him as a towering presence in politics. It's funny, I remember the same hypocrites undermining, pillorying and bullying him, and making him look like a dithering old fool.
I suppose, in the end, despite his distinguished careers as an athlete and MP, he'll be most remembered for his daft Scots name that no one knew how to pronounce properly. I look forward to his book and hope it's not called The Ming Dynasty. They all drank tea.
In an effort to reduce CO2 emissions whisky and spirits are to be transported from Speyside to the Central Belt by train. Someone came up with the idea of calling it the Whisky Train. Not sure what the train is juiced on, surely it's diesel? Someone is also missing the point but let's stay positive. The lorries usually travel around 200 miles and it's thought that one in every nine lorries driven on the A9 is connected in some way to the drinks industry. So that's driver jobs going as well? Someone maybe hasn't thought this through. No, stay positive. The good news is that the move will help the environment and reduce the numbers of lorries on the A9. The bad news is that Eric Joyce is the train driver doing his Casey Jones... steaming and a rolling. Choo-Choooooo!!!
Music has the Brits, Film and TV has the Baftas... can politics have the DAFTAS? The annual political award for incompetence and stupidity, #daftas. Can I propose Vince Cable for selling off the 500-year-old Royal Mail?